


Fervor

by Tsula



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angry Pengy, F/M, Fluff, Lime, Pengy in love~, Reader-Insert, Sweet and fluffy Pengy, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 01:56:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7598977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsula/pseuds/Tsula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Let go of me!” You sounded much more confident than you felt, but he didn’t care either way. </p><p>He leered as he tugged you closer and the other patrons carefully avoided looking. They didn’t want to get drawn in. No one wanted that kind of problem, especially over a stranger. They wouldn’t even meet your eye. </p><p>You glanced around hoping to see a bouncer or one of Penguin’s henchmen near enough to call out to; or better yet find that they were already on their way to intervene. What you found was more startling… and a little thrilling.  </p><p><i>The Penguin</i> was already on his way over and he looked positively <i>murderous</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fervor

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much fun messing around in Gotham, I don't know why I don't do it more often...
> 
> Thank you to Koneko for giving this an early read. ;D Your enjoyment of it got my butt in gear to revise it!
> 
>  _The helpful revision songs..._  
>  Tightrope : Kelly Clarkson  
> Paint it Black : Ciara  
> Faithfully : Journey

Working for the Penguin had never really turned out the way you’d expected. Frankly, you’d been terrified at just the idea; but bills had to be paid and he was hiring. Plus not too many people seemed to be vying for the position and that made it much easier to obtain. Not that you’d been overly enthusiastic at the hire. As a bartender, you knew you’d be privy to a lot of dangerous information. The kind that could potentially get you killed just for glancing over a the wrong time. However, you knew well enough to keep your head down and your mouth shut. 

That’s how you expected to survive each night. To look pretty, let the bad guys talk, and never say a damn thing about what you heard. You anticipated being terrified every shift; nervous and anxious because at any moment someone might decide you’d heard too much. 

What you didn’t expect was to _enjoy_ working for the Penguin. You didn’t count on him being polite, courteous, or sweet for that matter. You thought he’d give you a lecture on day one about what would happen if you went around running your mouth. Instead he smiled and told you to come to him with any questions, concerns, or issues. 

It was like working for two different men. He was dangerous and sly when it came to business, but sweet and adorable in every moment you shared. Both sides had their charm and you’d ended up falling for your boss before you could even begin to understand what you were feeling. He was a powerful, respected man who treated you better than anyone else ever had. He asked after you often, as though concerned you might leave if he didn’t. 

You loved the thought that he truly wanted you around, that he might treasure those moments between you even half as much as you did. That he wouldn’t just find himself another bartender and forget all about you. 

He certainly didn’t seem quite as ‘attentive’ to the rest of his staff as he was with you. You’d overheard the servers talking about it when they thought you weren't in earshot. Oddly enough, you didn't mind them debating over whether or not and the boss were ‘a thing’. Not so much because it wasn’t true, but because it was something that had crossed your mind… _often_. 

He wasn’t classically handsome, but he was very appealing in his own way. Whether smiling, scowling, calm, or raging: his expressions always seemed to cause a little jolt in your belly. You’d wondered many times what it might feel like to kiss him, to have his arms wrapped so tight around you it felt like he'd never let you go…

These fanciful reveries were often interrupted by customers or coworkers. This time it was the latter. 

Your barback Earl tapped your shoulder lightly, looking nervous as always at being so close to you. You’d thought awhile back that he had a crush and that the reason he jumped every time you turned your attention towards him… and then you noticed that his eyes would always dart to Penguin’s private booth. He wasn’t the only one who got nervous being close to you either and you’d noticed a pattern in the way they would scan the room. It was a little unnerving, but also kind of… flattering in an odd sort of way. It made you feel protected. Untouchable.

“I’ve restocked the house and top shelf.” Earl avoided looking you in the eye and shot a glance over towards where the boss was situated. You followed his gaze as you often did and met the Penguin’s eye with a pleased sort of jolt.

“Thanks Earl: you can go ahead and take your break.” 

He wasted no time in hightailing it. You sent your adorable boss a smile while restocking glasses and busing the counter in preparation for the evening rush. 

The sight of his own smile put you on top of the world. 

***

Fridays were always busy, but doubly so after dark. The place was always slam packed with people looking to take the edge off and catch a little entertainment. Most of the people in there were shady to some extent, but it was a rare fool indeed that pulled something on The Penguin’s turf. 

He had a reputation for putting idiots like that in line and then some. No one really wanted to test his legendary temper and end up at the bottom of the river. 

It was that notion that kept most of the staff terrified of making a mistake. For the first week or so of working for Penguin you thought he’d have you dragged out back and shot for something as simple as breaking a glass. 

It didn’t take long to realize though that the dangerous side of him was only a small part of who he was and not something you’d see on a regular basis. He was very much a gentleman and liked to keep that aspect of his business in the background where it belonged. He also seemed to have a very old fashion view of how women should be treated. A rare chivalry trait that hadn’t been stamped out by the times. Such as holding the door and always being respectful. It was strange and very charming. He was certainly a special sort of gangster and he’d of fit right in back in the 20s… you could even picture him saying things like “dame” and “daddy-o”. 

An image that had you smiling a little brighter at the next patron to take a seat by the bar. 

“What can I get ya?” You beamed at the gruff, but otherwise nonthreatening man. He looked very much like he could use a strong drink and a distraction. There was little doubt in your mind that he’d had a bad day.

“Vodka.” Was all he said, but you caught a hint of some accent. Not quite Russian, but close. 

Identifying accents had become something of a game in this line of work. Sometimes the customers enjoyed playing along, but this guy didn’t seem like he’d be one of them. At least not until he got a few drinks in, then maybe you’d be comfortable enough to ask. 

You passed him his glass with another smile and hurried on to the next set of drinks that one of the waitresses dropped by to order. The bar was filling at about the same rate as your dance card with the likes of Johnnie Walker and Captain Morgan. Most of the seats near you were already taken, but the rest of the place was only just getting full enough to leave people waiting.

And wait they often did. There was just such a cool, welcoming vibe that most folks couldn’t help but hang around. It didn't hurt that the drinks were well made either, and that the music was alluring enough to tempt passersby. Penguin liked perfection from his workers to keep people coming back and everyone strived to give him just that. Whether out of fear or admiration. 

Honestly it was mostly fear, but anyone who stuck around long enough started to appreciate him more. He was an oddly good man considering his line of work. He paid his people extremely well and he never lashed out at those who didn’t have it coming. At least, not that you’d seen.

There was that rumor going around the break room that he’d had a busboy whacked for talking too much, but the rumor mill was hardly something to be trusted. According to Earl the one about you sleeping with the boss was still going strong, even though there wasn’t exactly any justification for it. 

Not that you didn’t wish there was. It was hard not to wonder what it might be like being the boss’s girl. In fact you started thinking about it again while working on the drinks and nearly splashed gin into a 7&7 rather than 7-up. That wouldn’t have likely been very well received by someone expecting a _vastly_ different taste. 

Peak hours were hardly the time to be letting your mind wander like that, especially towards your boss who was sitting maybe twenty feet away and kept giving you that smile… You shook yourself out of it once again and held back the urge to dunk your burning face in the ice bucket. 

He was a distraction and a half looking at you like that… maybe it _was_ better when you were afraid of him. At least then you were more on the ball with your work. 

You focused on the next drink much harder and tried to force all thoughts of your admittedly charming boss out of your head. With the pace continuing to increase, you really didn’t have the time to stand around thinking unprofessional thoughts about the man who signed your paycheck. Much as you didn’t have the time to linger and chat with your patrons either, which was kinda how you preferred it. Especially as they drank themselves deeper and deeper under the table. You didn’t have to listen to drunken ramblings or bad pick up lines, because you only had time to pass out the drinks before moving on to the next patron. Things could get a bit hectic when it came to juggling multiple orders, but you had the rhythm down and a few handy ways to save time. This was when those old association tricks your mentor’d taught you really came in handy. 

Like the rum runner, which one of the waitresses had siddled up asking for. 

_Running by bars grabbing oranges, pineapples, and coconuts._

Rum.  
Blackberry liqueur.  
Banana liqueur.  
Grenadine.  
Orange juice.  
Pineapple juice.  
Coconut juice.

It helped a lot more than you’d expected when you had been forced to learn them. Of course, not every drink could have a catchy little ready-made phrase for you to memorize. So you’d had to make up your own for a few of the harder to remember ones. And it helped that you had easy access to a tablet with a drink guide if you got a request neither you nor the patron knew the mixture to. Though, that was a sure fire way to get bogged down by orders during peak hours. Especially if Earl wasn’t around to do the looking for you. 

It was his job to run out orders when the wait-staff were busy and to keep everything stocked up and tidy while you made the drinks. He cleaned up behind you if you didn’t have a chance, looked up drinks you didn’t know, and just generally made your job easier. 

Sadly, with this type of rush, most of his time would be spent running drinks and restocking. Clean up was something you’d have to half-ass on your own until you got a chance to breathe. 

***

It took a few hours for everything to wind down. As it started creeping closer to midnight the less dedicated partiers were already clearing out. The ones that were hanging around were mostly vegging out listening to the music, too buzzed for much else really. You kept an eye out for any indications of refill requests or someone getting too drunk to make it home. At which point you’d call over one of the bouncers to help them into a cab. 

The ones that were allowed to get that drunk were generally regulars anyway. That or the really sketchy patrons you were too wary of saying no to. 

You cleaned up around the bar while there was a lull, refilled a gin and tonic on your way by, and slipped a fresh bowl of pretzels to the drunken college girls sitting in the corner celebrating. They’d hit the bottle pretty hard and eager as their farewell to finals and school in general. Their moto for the night being “if we pass, awesome! If we flunked, fuck all of it!” and it amused the hell out of you. 

They were an adorable pair and you kept an eye out for them since they were way too drunk to fend off any perverts on their own. Thankfully no one really paid them much mind and one of the bouncers helped them out into a cab not long after their sixth round of cocktails. 

Those girls probably wouldn’t be feeling too hot in the morning, but for the time being they were in drunken bliss. 

You smiled and waved goodbye as they went on their way, waving more to the bar in general than to anyone in particular. Poor things were probably seeing triple.

That just left a small handful of people to take care of at the bar. No one at the tables had been ordering anything more complicated than wine.

You stretched a little, trying to work out the aches in your back, and shot a glance over at your boss. He was preoccupied talking to one of his bodyguards. Yet, almost as though sensing your gaze, he soon turned to meet your eye. He wasn’t smiling at first, but that changed the moment he saw you. And knowing that you could put a smile on his face was about the most wonderful feeling in the world. You sent him a smile right back before looking away to hide the rising heat in your cheeks.

The man was far too adorable when he smiled. 

“Oi barkeep!” One of your patrons called out while swaying in his seat. 

You turned quickly and hurried over. “Another?”

Sadly the ‘not quite Russian’ had not become any more welcoming with a belly full of booze. If anything he seemed to be getting bigger and scarier every time you looked at him. He had a hard face that even alcohol couldn’t soften and dark, beady eyes that liked to follow you. He was scruffy, massive, and could probably have snapped you in half if he had a mind to. 

You did your best not to let it show that his nearness bothered you, but you weren’t entirely sure you succeeded. Your smile was a little on the wavery side as you slid him a new glass rather than just refilling the old. You didn’t feel comfortable reaching too close to pull the other one in range.

“Pretty thing.” He murmured as he leaned against the bar watching you wit that unnervingly sharp stare and it increased your anxiety level to the point you highly considered calling over one of the bouncers. Just to feel a little _safer_. 

The sound of his old glass hitting the floor nearly made you leap out of your skin. He made no move to get it though so you had to round the bar, loath as you were to do so. It left you feeling much more exposed. “I’ll get that for you.”

Thankfully the glass hadn’t shattered on impact, but it had rolled under the chair right next to him. You had to get closer than you’d anticipated and much more so than you wanted to. The lack of noise and patrons gave you some strength though. It meant the bouncers would see a problem quicker and be more able to deal with it. 

Still you stooped down swiftly to grab the glass and tried to make your way back behind the bar before anything _could_ happen.

No such luck though.

As soon as you stood up the man caught your arm: hard. His massive hand was like an iron shackle as it wrapped around your forearm, crushing and bruising the tender flesh and making it feel like your bones might just crack under the pressure. It was a little scary how easily he could control you just with that one hand. He had you pulled around to him before you could do more than wince and start to internally panic. 

“Let go of me!” You sounded much more confident than you felt, but he didn’t care either way. 

He leered as he tugged you closer and the other patrons carefully avoided looking. They didn’t want to get drawn in. No one wanted that kind of problem, especially over a stranger. They wouldn’t even meet your eye. 

You glanced around hoping to see a bouncer or one of Penguin’s henchmen near enough to call out to; or better yet find that they were already on their way to intervene. What you found was more startling… and a little thrilling. 

_The Penguin_ was already on his way over and he looked positively _murderous_.

“Boss,” you were a little breathless and more than a little stunned. The man holding your arm followed your gaze and you felt his grip slack. Not enough to escape, but enough that it didn’t hurt so much. 

He had to know who he was looking at. Who it was that had come to save you. 

The boss was shorter than your attacker, but menacing enough to more than make up for the height difference. His reputation alone scared the hell out of most people. “Remove the hand.” Penguin said simply, firmly, and with the sort of tone that did not ask, but _command_. Then there was also the sudden presence of a knife to make non-compliance truly perilous. “Or I will remove it myself.”

For a moment nobody moved and you couldn’t help but wonder if the boss really would cut the man’s hand off. He certainly looked serious about the threat. 

Either way, drunk or not, the man knew better than to test the Penguin. He let go of you, slapped some money down on the bar, and got the hell out of dodge. This did not change the expression on Penguin’s face though. He still looked angry and ready to carve someone up. Whatever your boss was scheming though, the man did not stick around the find out. 

Once he was out of sight Penguin stowed the knife away and turned towards the bar. His eyes fell on Earl, who had just come back from his break, making the poor guy _very_ nervous in the span of about half a second. “Take over here.” 

Earl nodded quickly, with a hurried “yes sir” as he moved behind the counter. 

When Penguin’s eyes landed on you they were softer than before, though he still looked pretty angry. “Follow me.”

You nodded rather than spoke, mostly because you weren’t sure what, if anything, would come out of your mouth after all of that. He didn’t smile like he normally would have, but turned and made his way quickly towards the back rooms. You knew where he was going without even having to ask. 

Most people probably would have been afraid of following the boss into his office, especially in light of his present mood. Though most people weren’t privy to his softer nature apparently. He’d never so much as raised his voice to you and it seemed he was more than willing to get violent on your behalf with very little provocation. 

It struck you suddenly, as he ushered you into his office, that he might actually _kill_ for you. You weren’t sure what to do with that knowledge either. 

“Take a seat.” He said softly, but in a way that sounded choked, restrained even. Like he was holding something back. 

Probably anger. He still looked furious and thirsty for violence. No doubt he had his mind on a few ways he could vent his anger on the man who’d grabbed you. 

You sat down on the nearby sofa while he paced and it broke your heart thinking about the pain this type of erratic, harried movement likely caused him. He didn’t even have his cane. But he was just so angry he didn’t seem to care. It was hard to believe some guy putting a hand on you could cause this type of reaction, but the proof was right in front of your eyes. You’d never seen him so upset before… 

For that reason and many others you felt compelled to soothe him in any way you could. Though you weren’t entirely sure what would soothe him in such a mood.

“Boss,” you called softer than you’d intended but it still got his attention right away. It made you a little nervous the way he looked at you. So attentive, open, and anxious… You tried to pour as much as you could into two words to tell him what his kindness meant to you. “ _Thank you_.” 

That seemed to take the fight right out of him and for a moment he looked like he didn’t know what to say. He took a seat beside you, wringing his hands a little before he turned to look at you again. 

He was no longer menacing, but instead shy and rather tentative. “It was my pleasure.”

His smile did something to your insides, something warm and fluttery that made you feel anxious and maybe even a little foolish. You leaned forward without really thinking it over and pressed your lips very softly against his own. You gave him the chance to lean back, to pull away, but he didn’t do either. 

Instead he stayed right where he was, pressing his lips against yours in return and lifting his hands to cup your face. His hand shook a little at first, but he soon grew more confident in his actions. He held you more surely, kissed you harder and with much more need. Every bit of his restraint seemed to melt away as he touched you, bit by bit until he was harried and desperate. Two things that had been building in you as well. 

You pressed yourself closer to him, turning to lean towards him, and he slid his arms down to hold you there. Though the distance was still too much even then and all you wanted was to be closer. It didn’t feel like you could ever be close enough.

You shifted onto your knees and he helped you into his lap and astride him until you were as close as you could get without crawling beneath his clothes. 

Not that the thought didn’t tempt you. 

He wrapped you up tighter in his arms, keeping you pinned and pressed to the point it felt like you could feel him all over.

When you pulled back to breathe his lips were swollen, his eyes were wild, and you could _feel_ how much he wanted to keep going. You very much liked feeling it in fact. You couldn’t help but _feel_ it some more… You used your position to your advantage, cuddling deeper into his embrace and grinding down against the bulge in his pants. The friction left him groaning in such a wonderfully need-driven way. It was a sweet, tempting sound that made you want to rip his clothes off and make all those rumors about the two of you true. 

He gripped your arm with a wanton gasp of your name and you flinched at the sudden rush of pain. He hadn’t even grabbed you hard. 

You tried to keep going in spite of it, but he quickly pulled away to see what was wrong. It didn’t take long for either of you to figure it out. He looked down at the area under his suddenly tentative touch and you saw the very moment it registered. The moment his dazed, lustful expression became one of horror and rage. 

“It’s okay,” you leaned back in to murmur against his lips. “You saved me from him.” He held you closer though he was careful not to so much as touch that part of your arm again. “It’s only a bruise.” 

“He still hurt you.” He grit out angrily, nuzzling closer still as if attempting to fuse your bodies together. His hands shifted till they were in your hair, his lips brushing yours with every word he spoke. Such sweet and perfect torment in every move he made. “I will make him _beg_ for your forgiveness, I swear it!” He promised in a tone full to bursting with passion and hunger. 

The declaration made your chest _ache_ with affection for this man. How much did you mean to him for him to be so incensed by such a relatively small slight? It wasn’t like that had been the first handsy drunk you’d ever dealt with, but it was the first he’d been there for. He didn’t just brush it off like you’d been taught to do: he was out for blood over it. 

You couldn’t help but adore him all the more such a response. Your sweet, darling boss… It made more sense than ever why everyone thought you were an item. How had you never noticed the way he looked at you was so… _reverent_?

“I’d rather you make _me_ beg for something.” You whispered back slowly, but eagerly, and he smiled. 

It was a dark and yet oddly pleased sort of look. Like he’d just decided to eat you alive.

He cocked his head a little to the side. “Well, for you,” his breath rolling across your lips left you trembling in his arms. “ _I can do both_.”


End file.
